


The Discussion

by vividder



Series: Beneath Suspicion [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen, Interlude, Mostly dialogue and exposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 01:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10205666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividder/pseuds/vividder
Summary: Mycroft reveals to Dresden what his task is.





	

Mycroft lead Harry Dresden - now clean shaven, without his staff, and wearing a designer suit - through the halls of Sherrinford.  He looked like an official, someone Mycroft might normally consult with.  At least, he looked official enough to get through security, which was all that really mattered.  The false credentials presented at the door also helped to avert any suspicion.

Mycroft had designed this maze of passages through Sherrinford for his personal use.  Due to the nature of what was contained here, he didn’t want his own minor powers to throw anything off if he happened to have a rare spike of sentiment or anger while visiting the prisoner or checking up on the operations.  They were not listed on any official plans or documents, and no one knew the code to access them except for him.  And well, now Dresden.

Similar constructions were within the walls of the cell, but their effect was amplified.

The only concern was that Dresden was far above the power threshold the magical Faraday cage had been designed to contain. If he happened to not be able to control himself to the degree Mycroft hoped, it could destroy the whole operation.  So far, the latter possibility seemed likely.  He was, after all, the Winter Knight.  Mab’s agents were never known for their self-control.

“These are some serious wards,” Dresden commented into the silence.  His voice echoed off the metal walls. 

Mycroft knew Dresden was likely trying to get information from him, but he would learn no more than was strictly necessary for him to do his job.  He stayed silent until he reached his own office, which Dresden would be using as his base of operations.  The only technology in the room was rudimentary screens connected to outdated security cameras - the least likely to be ruined by his magic.  Besides that, the only furniture in the small room was a file cabinet bursting with paper, and an old wooden desk and chair.  It was more of a broom closet than anything else.

“This will be your office,” Mycroft said.  “I suggest you try not to break the security cameras.  They’ll be vital to your portion of this engagement.”

Dresden surveyed the room.  “I don’t know why I’m going to bother asking, but what the hell is going on?  What is this place?”

“It’s a prison, Mr. Dresden,” Mycroft said.  “For a particular warlock.  But I have reason to believe that this arrangement may no longer be viable, and I do not have the skills to dissolve it myself.  So I need your help.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the Wardens?”

Mycroft’s eyes met Dresden’s.  “Would you want to see your own sister beheaded?”

Dresden looked away.  “So what do you want me to do about this?” he asked after a moment.

“Take her down.  But not immediately, and only when the danger to others is great.  My sister is far more powerful than I have ever hoped to be, and from a young age she discovered the extent of her powers as they relate to breaking into other people’s minds.”

“That’s fucked up,” Dresden said, looking disturbed.  Mycroft couldn’t tell if it was from the tale, or from the detached tone in which it had been told.  

“I have reason to believe that she is attempting to lure my brother here in order to ruin him.  A few years ago, she influenced someone invited to survey the prison to join her in a plan to convince my brother to destroy his reputation.  Being a normal human, he had no choice but to be her pawn.  We ended up having to fake my brother’s suicide.  The agent killed himself as part of her plot.”

“Was that intentional?”

Mycroft sighed.  “That is indeed the question.”  He focused again.  “Anyway, my brother - after having had the memories repressed for most of his adult life - it appears he has remembered her name again.  He has made his desire to reunite with his sister quite clear.  I’m afraid that she is interested in playing with his mind again.  And, rather than allow my brother to find this place - and discover what she is on his own - I have decided to accompany him.”

Dresden seemed to consider the new information, taking a seat in the chair and looking through the dossiers of John and Sherlock on the desk.  “How did you end up with the Winter Queen owing you a favor?”

Dresden had asked this before, and Mycroft rolled his eyes.  Politics was multidimensional, and his own abilities had lead him into contact with certain others.  He’d chosen his alliances, and that had been that.  “Enough about that.  Until you are needed, please stay in these tunnels.  They’re designed to mitigate the impact of magic on Sherrinford’s security systems, although they weren’t designed for anyone with your strength.  You will need to be careful.  There should be a map of the complex, including the tunnels and the camera locations on the desk.  Your belongings will be delivered to you.”

“So let me get this straight,” Dresden said.  “You had a prison built for your psycho warlock sister, but it has become compromised, and you know that because your brother started remembering things he shouldn’t have?  And your solution is to bring him here because if not, he’ll get here on his own?  I’m honestly torn between asking who the hell you are, what the hell you do for a living, and how your family is so screwed up.  Seriously, can’t you just have your brother arrested if he even gets close to this place if you’re as powerful as you claim to be?”

“Sherlock has a gift for exploiting blind spots,” Mycroft explained, his eyes narrowed.  “He once masqueraded as myself and spent close to twenty minutes pretending to inspect a secure government facility before someone noticed that the authentication didn’t follow my normal patterns.”

Dresden held up the photo that had been in Sherlock’s file.  “And they didn’t notice that he looks nothing like you?”

Mycroft didn’t even bother to respond to that.  Yes, everyone at Baskerville had been reprimanded over that incident, but it still never answered the question as to why photo ID authentication had never been in Baskerville in the first place.  An unforgivable oversight.  “Intervene only when it is necessary, Mr. Dresden.  Take Eurus down,” Mycroft summarized.  Then something else occurred to him.  “And if you wouldn’t mind using your Sight on my brother, that would be helpful.  I am interested in knowing the extent of the damage that has been done to him.”

Sentimental, he knew, but he felt as if knowing such a thing were necessary.  Vital.  Not to anything important, but to the fact that this had happened.  The fact he hadn’t been able to stop any of it.

Dresden nodded.  “When do we get started?”

“This afternoon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> I have the third part nearly written, but I am unsure of the ending. I will post when I have something which I am happy with. Suggestions as to what you want to see (in this arc or with the concept of Mycroft-as-a-minor-wizard as a whole) are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Blame anything weird on the fact that almost this entire fic was written late at night at music festivals.


End file.
